End of Wizardkind
by snaperiddle1
Summary: With Harry Potter as Minister of Magic and Hermione Granger as Secretary of State, the Ministry has embarked upon a campaign to eliminate Magic. Hogwarts is closed. Use of Magic is forbidden by Law. Wizards are forced to purchase Rockindian corporations' products for day to day conveniences like mobile phones instead of owls. Can Draco, on the run at present, save the Wizardkind?
1. Chapter 1

_In a brave move, the newly appointed Minister for Magic, Harry Potter has decided to close Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. While many of the experts have compared this heroic move to the ban of Dark Magical Arts in 1623 by Sir Godric Griffindor, the then Minister for Magic, the jury is still out whether Harry Potter will be able to survive the fundamentalist Pureblood backlash._

_"Well, I must say, we are talking about him who survived He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself. What chance do these fundamentalist Purebloods have against my boy, Harry Potter, said ailing Professor Horace Slughorn. Other experts point out that things have changed a lot since Muggle Curriculum was introduced in Hogwarts School by the former Minister for Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt. Many purebloods have recognized how foolish they had been staying ignorant of the Arts and Sciences of the Muggles, being unable to use the mobiles and tablets, the aeroplanes and spacecrafts. "Instead of spending years and years of our youthful lives learning the obscure magic arts, we can get most of those benefits at an instant from the free market," says Neville Longbottom, President of the International Progressive Pureblood Society._

_Few deny that the advent of foreign multinational corporations with their wonderful Muggle inventions has rendered most of the magical arts irrelevant. "I was certainly not going to send my grandchildren to Hogwarts if they still taught Charms and Potions, anyway," says Ronald Weasley, a respected Pureblood and Minister of Road and Rail._

_While the Muggle Prime Minister has hailed this integration of the wizarding community into the Muggle fold as a historic achievement, leaders abroad too have complimented the Minister of Magic. The President of Rockindia, the super-power nation, has promised to extend all help in the event of a Pureblood backlash. "We are fully committed to seeing the wizarding community out of this museum culture," said the Rockindian President, Bushame._

_For the past few years, the Purebloods had been sending their children to Muggle Schools in increasing number, as they witnessed on their TV sets, the great achievements of the scientists and artists produced by these schools. The number of students in Hogwarts had been declining steadily. This year only ten students had taken admission whereas in Minister Harry Potter's student days, the students at Hogwarts used to number in hundreds._

His eyes were in tears as he read the week-old Daily Profit front-page news to old friend Draco Malfoy. Gregory Goyle felt like he had aged a hundred years. Though, only 45, Goyle's hollow eyes, wrinkled skin and thin figure said a lot about the trauma he had gone through all these years. While their lives had seen lots of ups and downs, the defeat of the Dark Lord topped them all. The Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt had sent their fathers to Azkaban for being Death-Eaters. Non-bailable warrants were issued against Draco and Goyle too, for learning Dark Arts. Since then, the two had been on the run in the forests, never staying two days straight at a single spot in dense forests.

Harry Potter too had made the forests his hideout in his seventh year at Hogwarts while plotting to destroy the Dark Lord, he had to fear only the wizards then. But for Malfoy, the fear is the Muggle satellites, which keep constant watch on every patch of land to look for any Pureblood who has not betrayed his blood. Another fear was the pilotless drones that killed hundreds of men, women and children every month on the suspicion of being Purebloods or friends of Purebloods.

Away from his comfy mansion, the once handsome and sleek-haired Draco Malfoy looked as if all the sorrows of the world had gathered in his own heart. Malfoy and Goyle had lost all hope the day the Dark Lord had died. He lamented why his parents had suddenly turned so selfish, caring more for their son's safety than for the Dark Lord's victory. Perhaps, they thought the Ministry would reward them for this. But they were astounded when the Muggle policemen in the company of Aurors had arrived one night in their homes. Draco remembers the night her mom was raped while he lay tied to a pole, without clothes. His father beaten to a pulp, blood all over his body. Later he had come to know that while the Dementor jailers of the past tortured the prisoners only psychologically, the Muggle tormentors apply both psychological as well as physical techniques. Draco was not arrested as there was no warrant in his name, but soon the Anti-Dark Art Law was passed and he knew what next, … "Anybody proved to have taught, studied or practiced the Dark Art will be considered a Death-Eater. All friends and relations of Death-Eaters shall be considered Dark Art sympathisers." While the Death-Eaters were subject to a lifetime of imprisonment, the sympathisers were liable to half that quantum.

And then the Magical World had been corporatized. The Daily Prophet becoming the Daily Profit was perhaps the most remarkable emblem of the gloomy Capitalist future that lay ahead for the Magical community.

It seemed yet another day of worry and recounting of tragedy after tragedy that had befallen the duo in these past 28 years. "I know my biggest mistake was not dying along with the Dark Lord." I was such a coward. How great of you, aunt Bellatrix. You never had to see this shame after shame, this tragedy after tragedy, the Pureblood massacres disguised as criminal riots. You never witnessed any friend or foe raped by the Law. …" Goyle as usual was nodding when all of a sudden, he sat bolt upright. Draco too went all attention. Was it a Muggle spy?

"See the patronus, Draco!" A kind and mild donkey-shaped light beam was marching towards them. "Run, Goyle, before the Muggles catch us. Let us flee, fast!"

"Just a minute, Draco. Let us see who sent it." As Draco dithered for a minute, the Patronus had come close.

"Your mother is dead. Last night's beating proved too much for her frail body. Your father too is on the brink of death. I am Cornelius Fudge. It is Lucius' last wish to see you. I can help. Tell me where you are by a reply Patronus."

"Ah!" said Draco drawing in a heavy breath. "At least her days of daily rapes and tortures are over. She would be much happier now."

"But the question is should we trust this Patronus?" reminded Goyle. "Don't you think Cornelius might be luring you to get himself some reward from his successor?"

"I don't think so. When Harry Potter became Minister, he ordered Cornelius be chucked into a cell in Muggle Torture House. But Percy Weasley begged him to have mercy for his failing health, and Harry Potter somehow conceded. He should be too old now to have long plans for this world."

"I don't contradict you, Draco, but don't you remember that the first time our fathers had to go to prison was when Cornelius was the Minister," persisted Goyle.

"Yeah, but he had lost his job too. In his desperate last-ditch attempt to cling on to Ministry, he had hurriedly signed the orders for our father's imprisonment, …"

"But it did not help him much, did it, Draco? He had to resign in the end," said Goyle.

"Anyway, should I reply or not?" said Draco looking at his trusted comrade enquiringly.

"I tell you. Let us be ready with all our belongings for apparition while we send the reply-Patronus," suggested Goyle.


	2. Chapter 2

Draco's heart was pounding heddavily as he sent the reply Patronus with his current address. He held Goyle's hand firmly, their belongings in their backpacks on their backs, ready to apparate in a second. A minute passed, two, then three, … The wait seemed unending.

At last, after nearly ten minutes, Cornelius Fudge, the former Minister of Magic apparated before their eyes. Too old to retain his balance, Fudge fell down and was hurt. Draco and Goyle supported him and raised him up so that he could stand with the support of his walking stick.

Though frail and wasted, there was a glint of his old Ministerial I-mean-business attitude in his eyes. "Boys, we don't have much time. I remember old friend Lucius. He was …" But he could not complete his sentence. His voice appeared choked. "Anyway, we have to decide soon. We have a plan, boy. Lucius wants to see you once before his death. Are you ready?" Lucius had somehow managed to say all of this making great effort to hold himself from crying.

"Minister, are you serious? Can I, a Death-Eater, a known practitioner of Dark Arts visit my father, and hope to return?"

"Well, boy, that's why I have a plan. It is difficult but the only way. Perhaps, the last good thing I could do for my old friend Lucius," said Cornelius. "And by the way, boy, I am not Minister. Had I been, you wouldn't have been here, nor your father there." At this tears started falling from the grave face of Cornelius.

"You are right, Uncle Cornelius."

"And Goyle, any news of any living relation of yours?"

"No, all are dead," replied Goyle in a dead sort of voice.

In the Fudge Manor, Cornelius was introducing two of his friends from Eritrea, who were expert doctors, to the Under Secretary of State, Percy Weasley who worked under Hermione Granger, the Secretary of State. "See, Percy, if you remember my favours and love, you would accept my last dying wish," implored Cornelius to the healthy looking man of 49 that Percy was.

"Yes, Cornelius, I remember. You can rely upon me."

"I know well that Lucius deserved what he got, but a little mercy, …"

"Yes, minister," said Percy cutting him short.

"Just take these two doctors with you to the Torture-house and let them have a look at Lucius' health. I beg of you, Percy."

Percy looked impassively at the tear-filled eyes of Cornelius.

"Mr. Fudge, I am sure you know how risky it could get. They will say, there are already enough of doctors at the Torture-house."

"I know, Percy, but do give it a try. Don't you know we in our days had turned blind eye to so many of your dad's …"

"I don't deny that, Minister. But you people were a different breed. These Muggles are bloody monsters. I am sure you know the difference."

"Am I talking to the Under Secretary …?"

"Well, Minister, you can't be so innocent as to not understand the trauma I suffer everyday looking at our vanishing, dying Magical Arts, accelerated by our family and family-friends," interrupted Percy. "Well, doctors, be ready not for a health mission but for a military expedition," said Percy extending his hands towards Draco and Goyle, who were unrecognizable because of the Metamorphosis Charm on their faces.

And there Draco and Goyle stood with the Under Secretary Percy in front of Lucius' cell. Draco looked quite a doctor by his airs and manners, though he had never studied medicine, neither Muggle nor Magical. But the somber doctorial face could not restrain itself when his eyes fell upon his dying father. His limbs had become thin like twigs. His abdomen had sunk to his back.

"Hello, doctor, you have got only ten minutes for this patient," said Percy in a fakely stern voice. Percy too seemed shaken by Lucius' condition.

"Son, Draco, …" Lucius broke into an uncontrollable cry. Percy stood quickly and placed his hands upon Lucius' mouth lest the Muggle guards grew suspicious.

After several incoherent sentences of encouragement, in about ten minutes, was Lucius in a position to say something understandable. He turned to Percy, first. "Pureblood Percy, are you happy?"

"No, Lucius, but I have got no option. I have always regretted my return to them during Hogwarts War, as the Magic, ah , dear Magic, the noble arts, kept getting killed and eliminated from our world before my own eyes. Very soon, I had learnt that Hermione was a Rockindian spy's daughter and later a Rockindian spy herself. She lured Harry and used her charm upon Ron. Old Rockindian spy Dumbledore had paved the ground for her. And the stage was set for our end. We were the only ones in the world, that the super-power Rockindians feared. Only we could every pose a danger to their global world order. And so we had to be eliminated."

"Yes, Percy, I too have cried every night since, for my practical abandonment of the Dark Lord. I was such a coward. When I saw that we were outnumbered, I felt it safe to attempt at switching sides. But alas! Where it has landed me?" muttered Lucius in his weak voice.

"Anyway, let us not waste time, Percy, Draco and Goyle," said Lucius as if bringing himself to the big task. "I have some secrets. I hope they may help …"

"Help in what? With sixty percent of Purebloods massacred, 39 per cent of Purebloods made into traitors through greed, television, and Muggle education, what good can any help do, father?" said Draco.

"Yes, uncle. Try your best to keep yourself in peace as best as you can, and don't worry for the rest of us. I know it is harsh, but, …" blurred Goyle.

"No, Goyle, Dark Lord can still save us."

"Are you … sure …?" said Draco in amazement.

"Yes, I am. I know I was not the Dark Lord's favorite ever. But Bellatrix Lestrange was. And she deeply loved her sister and your mother, Narcissa." And the memory of his wife sent him once again into a crying fit. This time, Draco shut his father's mouth to muffle the sound. They could hear the guards' footsteps as they walked by the cell.

Percy was showing signs of worry. Half an hour had passed, he reminded them. "We had asked for only 10 minutes."

"Ok, then, I will be quick," said Lucius. "Deep down in the Chamber of Secrets, the Dark Lord had placed a triple Horcrux when he had gone there for Dumbledore's Elder Wand. The Dark Lord had seen how his Horcruxes had benefitted him after the first downfall, so he planned to make one more. He had also seen how Bellatrix had been faithful, and how Snape had – and here he was mistaken of course – remained loyal, so he decided upon a risky course. A triple Horcrux. A single object that would contain the souls of three great magicians. As for the object, he chose Basilisk's fang. His earlier Horcruxes had been destroyed by Basilisk's fang and by Gryffindor's sword which had imbibed the fang's poison, so as a safeguard, he chose the fang itself this time."

"So, we will have to go there," said Draco as he mulled over.

"Yes, and then once you lay your hands upon it, you will need the same old magic that had caused the Dark Lord's rebirth earlier. Do you know Percy? That magic?"

"Ah, no, Lucius. I am sorry. I had no idea even about Horcruxes till Harry's story came out," said Percy.

"What?" mumbled Lucius. "Then we really have no hope." For the first time, Lucius looked like he had no desire to live any more.

"Father, father, …" Draco was crying.

"Yes, Draco, yes, yes, I am listening."

"What, father, what are you saying? No, FATHER!"

But to this there was no answer from father. " FATHER, …" Draco was about to shriek and so was Goyle. Percy at once shut both of their mouths.

Goyle wrote a report that the patient was in his last stages, and that there was no cure for him. He could die any moment. As they left the dead Lucius and his cell, they had only one fear: Will anyone suspect their hands in killing Lucius, and reducing his torment-period in the Torture House? Percy's promise to help them as much as he could was some consolation, though. He had handed Draco a thick envelope which he had pulled out from Lucius' bed just before leaving the cell.


	3. Chapter 3

The last horcrux, the last hope


End file.
